


Sherlock Multi-ship Drabbles

by paranomasia



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Drabbles, Implied Sexual Content, Multi, Ship all the ships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-27
Updated: 2013-07-27
Packaged: 2017-12-21 12:41:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/900432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paranomasia/pseuds/paranomasia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Originally posted on Tumblr, now also on AO3! Series of random multi-ship drabbles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tutoring (Molly Hooper/Irene Adler)

"W-what are you doing?"

Irene only smiled when she saw the slight blush creeping up on Molly’s cheeks, averting her eyes before she slipped her hand a bit higher on the shy girl’s tigh, touching the fabric of the - in Irene’s opinion - too long skirt. “Having you tutor me in math, of course. That’s what we’re here for, right?" Her fingers brushed underneath the skirt, and her smile widened as Molly let out a soft gasp. “Ohh.. But.. Your hand is on my.."

Irene licked her lips, and glanced up at Molly’s face again. “You don’t mind me multi-tasking, do you now? I could teach you a lot about.." She edged closer to Molly, leaning in so her mouth was only inches away from Molly’s ear. "..biology." She brushed a loose strand of hair away from Molly’s face, immediately pressing a kiss on the soft skin of her cheek afterwards. “Go on. You were telling me how to find the X." Her hand moved up even further, sliding down the inside of Molly’s leg and scraping her nails over the fabric of the knickers. Bright red ones, Irene noted, with a smile, not the white ones the uniform required. “But you could also tell me where to find the G.."

Molly’s blush deepened. “We’re in the library." She mumbled, and Irene chuckled as she leant back, pushing her chair backwards and sliding underneath the table, finding herself a comfortable spot between Molly’s legs. “Then you will just have to be silent, darling."


	2. Table organisation (Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Mycroft tries to drill Greg for dinner with Mommy.

“I will never be able to remember this.”

With a sigh, Greg put the teaspoon - no, was it the dessert spoon? One of the small spoons - down, and rubbed his eyes. “How about you persuade your mother to takes us to the pizzeria for Christmas?”

Mycroft chuckled, moving from his spot at the kitchen counter towards Greg and running his hands over his shoulders. “What don’t you understand?” He asked, casually ignoring the remark about pizza which almost made him shudder. “It’s really quite simple.”

Greg snorted and turned his head to look at his lover. “I don’t understand why I need two-hundred different kinds of cutlery just to enjoy a meal. Chicken wings taste just as great when I eat them with my fingers, Myc.”

Another chuckle, followed by that raised eyebrow Greg always found so annoying, yet endearing. “I do believe there won’t be anything of the sort on the menu. However, I could ask Mommy to make an exception for you…” He trailed off, a playful undertone in his voice, and Greg smiled as well. And then he sighed, clearly giving up.

“Let me help you.” Mycroft suggested, leaning down to press his lips against Greg’s neck, hand snaking down his shirt and stroking the soft skin underneath. Greg sighed again, a sigh of contentment this time, and leant into Mycroft’s touch. “I don’t see how this will help, however pleasant this is.”

Mycroft hummed, moving his hand a bit lower, over Greg’s chest, thumb running over his nipple, just hard enough to elicit a slight moan from the grey-haired fox. “Let’s say this is the first course, hm?” He flicked his nail across the nipple once more, pressing a kiss on Greg’s neck. “It’s pleasant, makes you want more, but it’s not much.” Another kiss, finger circling around the piqued bud. “So small fork, perhaps with a piece of bread, which you cut..” He dug his nails in slightly, “On the seperate small plate with the bread knife. Got it?”

Greg only hummed as a reply, keeping his eyes on the plate. Small fork. Bread.. Right. Definitely wanting more.

Mycroft smiled, pulling his hand out of Greg’s shirt and moving to unbutton it, pressing butterfly kisses on Greg’s neck and shoulders as he pushed it down his arms. “Main course, dinner fork and knife, those are the bigger ones, and a glass of wine.. I’ll tell you which one would be best.” He ran his lips up and down Greg’s neck, pausing to nip at his collarbone, his hand sneaking their way down Greg’s sides to his trousers, which to his pleasure were already showing signs of stretching in the crotch-area. “Hm, enjoyable, isn’t it?”

“You’re an asshole.”

“You love it.”

“I love your asshole.”

Too straightforward. Or so Mycroft told himself, ignoring the rush of pleasure that ran over his spine at the images that bubbled up. “Please stay focused, Gregory. Dessert.”

“Smallest spoon.”

“Very good.” Mycroft purred, running his hand over the tight fabric of Greg’s trousers. “And for the cake?”

“Fork. The one underneath that spoon.” He leant back against the chair, closing his eyes. Jesus. This was hardly fair.

“Correct.” He rewarded the reply with his hand moving inside Greg’s trousers, cupping his hard-on. “And with the dessert we drink..?”

“Tea. In the saucer that arrives only with the last course. Please, Mycroft…”

“Almost finished, love. Napkin goes on which side?” He palmed the fabric of Greg’s boxer, a smirk playing around his lips as he watched the man’s impressions.

“Left. Jesus fuck, you fucking tease.”

“Perfect.” He pulled his hand back out of Greg’s trousers, straightening himself and walking back towards the counter, picking up the glass of Scotch he’d abandoned earlier. “And I thought you couldn’t remember any of..”

He was interrupted by Greg’s lips crashing to his own, a warm hand taking the glas from his lips as he was pushed against the counter. His eyes widened in mock-surprise, before he eagerly returned the kiss. They continued for another minute, until Greg pulled back and rested their foreheads together. “I require more explanation, I think.”

Mycroft chuckled and licked his lips. “Would that explanation happen to take place in the bedroom?”

“I really couldn’t care less.”

“Perhaps the kitchen table would serve for this purpose.”

“Exquisite choice, Mr. Holmes.”

“I only go for the best.”


	3. Weekly Dosis of Anti-Holmes (Anthea/Molly Hooper)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Anthea and Molly meet every Monday to gossip about the Holmes boys.

It was a normal grey morning, the sun hardly rising, when Molly entered the cafeteria she and Anthea had started to meet up every Monday. She slipped in the seat opposite of her girlfriend, smiling widely and leaning forward for a quick morning kiss. “There will be a Monday I can’t get out of bed in time."

Anthea chuckled, pouring another cup of coffee, adding milk and sugar before pushing it towards Molly. “You wouldn’t be able to resist having your weekly dosis of Anti-Holmes". Both ladies grinned, and sipped their coffee, once again chuckling at the simultaneity of their actions. The coffee house was still empty, this early in the morning, so there was no one to witness them sharing those lovely moments.

"Well," Molly finally said, finishing her first cup and immediately pouring herself another one, taking up one of the sandwiches on the table. “I do most certainly hope this week will be easier than the last."

Anthea nodded, putting on a surly look and saying in a low voice, that was obviously meant to be Mycroft’s, ‘Get me file nr.39887, now,’ before laughing and switching to her normal voice again. “I always wondered if bossing around ran in the family. Does Junior do that as well?"

"All the time."

"Jesus Christ, I don’t see how you keep up with that."

"Neither do I of you."

"I get paid for it."

"Very good point."

Once more they joined in laughter, before Anthea’s phone started on that dreaded twinkling sound that meant their meeting was over, and she had to get back to work. She sighed, opening the text message, that as usually said, “Presence urgently requested. MH" and finished her coffee, getting up. “I’m sorry, love. You know how it is."

"Oh, I know." Molly got up, cupping Anthea’s face with her both hands and pressing a sweet kiss on those rosy lips. “I’ll text you about dinner, okay? Have fun."

"You too." Anthea replied, lips curled up in a cheeky grin. “There’s a most interesting case coming your way. I assume you will see Junior before noon." And what that she walked to the door, leaving behind Molly, who rolled her eyes with a smile and then left the cafe, taking her sandwich with her.


End file.
